


Sharpshooter

by things-we-used-tc-share (Heavydirtys0ul)



Series: Red Skies [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Trigger warning for mentions of death and child death very briefly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/things-we-used-tc-share
Summary: Prequel to "I don't wanna set the world on fire,"Set in the Fallout 4 Universe (You don't need to have played Fallout 4 to understand the fic, I've explained all the references in the notes and am happy to answer anything that isn't understood)Alone in a radioactive wasteland, Virgil must figure out how to save his own life and the life of his son.





	1. Gunning

**Author's Note:**

> At the beginning of IDWSTWOF I gave a brief overview of references to the Fallout Universe and will do the same here:
> 
> -For anyone who's played Fallout 4 and has had MacCready as a companion, you will quickly realize that Virgil's storyline is very similar to his. For those who haven't, I hope you enjoy angst.  
> -"Caps" are the currency used in the Fallout Universe and yes it is exactly as it sounds- bottle caps are used as currency.  
> -Jet is a drug that essentially slows down time for the user.  
> -A Deathclaw is a very large and deadly creature, kind of looks like a T-Rex with horns and longer arms.  
> -Diamond City is the main city in the Commonwealth  
> -gunners are a military-style mercenary group that basically ruthlessly murder others for their food and money. 
> 
> For other references and an idea of the story that proceeds this, I would recommend you read the first fic in the series.

Running with the Gunners had never seemed like an easy feat and Virgil had never expected it too. He'd also never expected to want to leave. Surrounded by these people he's never felt quite so uncomfortable in his life. The man never claimed to have a moral high ground but his idea of a good time was not murdering innocent settlers and stealing their food, the Gunners were not quick to share his sentiment. For a while it was fine, he needed the caps and he needed a job and he needed to be in the Commonwealth. It only really took one night for his mind to collapse into itself; a year into being a hired sharpshooter for these people he witnessed a massacre he could never forgive. Standing between a river a town piled high with dead bodies, hundreds of people murdered because of them. This was an entire town that had thrived now laid bare with only death for decoration, he looked in the lifeless eyes of what once had been a young boy before his stomach lurched and amidst the madness, he ran.

He managed alone for a while. He stole food and stowed away in abandoned settlements whilst fighting away at the most terrifying creatures the wasteland could often. The creatures weren't what scared him really, a couple of bullets between a Brahmin's eyes and he had dinner for a couple of nights. A couple of bullets in a Jet-fueled Gunner and he'd still be in battle until morning; he didn't doubt that somewhere the bastards were looking for him. 

Virgil took jobs here and there but tried to stay under the radar, this time he was operating under his own rules. He refused to kill children or pregnant women, he wouldn't murder an entire settlement of people unless they were perhaps a cult (Wildly specific but not as uncommon as one may think) and he would only kill a father if he'd done something truly deserving of death. He didn't claim to have a moral high ground, but most of his jobs were people who really did deserve a bullet to the head, nevertheless, he still wasn't proud of his services. It was the quickest and easiest way to money. 

And money was going to save his son's life. 

Not that he'd let on that he had any form of weakness. 


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil stares under the harsh sun to the figure of two men, the second of which had just taken the brains out of a Ghouls skull, seconds before it had been about to do the same to him. "Are you a Raider?" The first called out, dressed in a long leather coat and a faded blue dress shirt, an ammo belt wrapped firmly over his shoulders and a shotgun poised in his arms. He was close combat sorta guy then, even so, he could easily take Virgil's head off his shoulders at this distance. 

"No, are you?" Virgil replies cautiously, his own gun clutched between his hands as he looks at the duo, who have very similar faces bar the first who had a much more angular bone structure. 

"No," The second finally talks, his voice lighter than the first with a beam-splitting grin on his face. "See Lo, I told ya, he's too pretty to be a Raider!" Virgil splutters indignantly at the compliment before growling in malcontent. 

"He took the heads of three Ghouls off with one bullet Roman, somehow I doubt your compliment is going to be well received, not to mention the fact you can't even see his face under that mask" The first, Lo, holsters his weapon "I'm not going to shoot, if you're not going to shoot, there's no need for any bloodshed here," The second, Roman holsters his own weapon on his- partner's (?) command. Virgil nods and clicks the safety back on his own, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. "You've got a sharp shot, kid, what's your name?" Virgil squints at him before he pushes his gas mask up so the other can see his face. As expected, the two takes a step back. "Ah," Logan says simply, "Well if it isn't everyone's favorite gun for hire,"

Roman, unperturbed, all but purred "I told you he's pretty," The taller clips him over the ear by way of telling him to shut up "I suppose there's a price to pay for our proposition then,"

"Roman, there's plenty of other shooters out there we don't need to be messing around with an ex-Gunner," Virgil almost wants to laugh at the way the brunet pouts in response, it's unlike anything he'd ever seen a grown man do. "We need help, not more fucking trouble," he hisses, narrowing his eyes at the other "Where's your common sense?" Roman doesn't even move a muscle, he just keeps pouting.   
  


"Don't I uh-get a say in this?" Virgil interrupts the stare-off the two are having "Short and pouty is right, there's a price, you don't just get a gun for hire for free, and secondly how'd I know I'm not going to end up with a bullet in my back even if I wanted to go with you?" Roman's face relaxes and he steps in front of his brother. 

"We don't kill for fun, unlike uh.." He trails off apologetically but Virgil simply waves a hand "But you'll get plenty of food and water, we just need some help with guarding considering just the two of us protecting our settlement makes it difficult to hold off Mutants and Ghouls," Logan sighs and looks up at the sky, realizing he's no longer got a choice in the matter "So I guess...what's your price?" It's possibly the first time in a long time that Virgil has seen someone smile at him, knowing who he was and what he did, who he used to run with. 

"300 Caps," He finally says and he sees Logan's head whip around so fast he hears his neck crack. Roman barely falters however, he'd already known the moment he'd seen Virgil's face that it wasn't going to be a cheap deal. He holds out his bag of caps for the other to take. Virgil takes it with raised eyebrows, counting them out before handing the bag back with some left in them. "You sure you can afford the gun?"

"We trade more than we spend," Roman shrugs and he can see Logan shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes "This is my big brother, Logan, he all but raised me,"

"And I apparently did a dreadful fuckin' job too," The taller sighs before unholstering his gun "Come on let's scrap what we can from this place and get the fuck out of here," Virgil nods and the enter the falling-apart house that Virgil had been trying to enter before being attacked. They find some junk that Roman hauls into a cloth sack "We have an acquaintance over at a neighboring settlement," Logan explains "He takes all the junk and builds defenses for us, we've just got to know the parts we're looking for, in return we give him some cooked meats, they're not much of hunters, but Roman's got a pretty good shot on him, he goes out on hunts with the kids and shows them how to shoot," Virgil pulls some Nuka-Cola off the table and into his bag, trying not to think about the day he'll have to show his son the same thing to survive. He wished the world hadn't come to this. He simply nods in response as they head out again.

He tries not to notice the look of adoration Roman is giving him. The last thing he needed was another lover to mourn.


	3. Out of an orange colored sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is being obnoxiously flirty, Virgil has many reservations, Logan is tired of their bullshit already.

The radio hummed its music in the static of the mid-summer heat. Roman sings along extravagantly as he shoves a screwdriver through pieces of metal that make up a turret " _Flash, bang, ala-kazam, wonderful that you came by!_ " He winks over at Virgil, "I love this song so much," He pulls the screwdriver away from the last screw and hums as he pulls his goggles over his eyes to peer at the wiring "We should really get someone who is good with this sort of thing down here," Roman hisses as he gets an electric shock, "Bastard technology," He fiddles around some more, humming to himself whilst Virgil looks over him with a quirk of his lips. he hates to admit that he actually does find this man somewhat endearing; childish, arrogant, dramatic, but endearing. Roman mutters a quiet sound of joy as the turret whirs into life, screwing the panel back on. "Take a picture, V, it'll last longer,"

Virgil scoffs, cheeks heating, "In your dreams, Princey," He turns around and busies himself with the pip-boy on his wrist. 

"Where did you get that thing anyway, that's Vault-Tec technology, I thought, well I assumed that they kept their tech somewhere where no one can find it," He sits down next to the other man as he stares at him fidgeting with the dials, zooming in on the map on the screen. "Where are you trying to go?" Virgil points to a small name on the screen "Med-Tek Research? What are you wanting from an old medical research facility, that place is probably crawling with ghouls dude," 

"It is," Virgil replies shortly "I've already tried to get in twice, the first time I was almost ripped to shreds before I even got through the front door, the second time I got to the ground level," Roman whistles through his teeth shortly. "But I need...something inside that facility, it's why I came to the Commonwealth," He sighs as he plots out the route. "It's none of your business anyway,"

"Well, maybe I can help?"

"Help with what?" The two look up to see Logan approaching, sipping on his Nuka-Cola as he ditched his usual leather jacket for a thin shirt in the summer heat, a thin layer of sweat clouded over his eyebrows that told Roman he'd been working too hard again. Virgil groans and shoves Roman a little, the younger man sighs dramatically but there's a teasing smile on his face that makes his brother roll his eyes. Roman truly can never take a hint. 

"Virgil's trying to get into Med-Tek but he won't tell me why," Logan looks over at Virgil. Unlike the younger of the brother's, Logan's expression very rarely changes from its usual stoic gaze; but the eyebrow raise is somehow more reassuring and familiar to Virgil than Roman's excited curiosity. He sighs the sort of sigh that starts in your chest and crawls up your throat, ending with telling a secret you don't really want to tell. 

"Look, I don't know you guys all that well but as far as the Commonwealth seems to go, you seem like the only decent people I've met outside of regular settlements," Logan nods, acknowledging the statement and encouraging the other to continue "And I don't completely trust you, but I could use some help," He's unsure if he's trying to convince them or himself that this is a good idea at this point. "I have a son," Roman's breath catches in the back of his throat, eyes wide, whilst Logan offers a mildly surprised raised pair of eyebrows "And he's very sick," 

"And the cure is in Med-Tek?" Virgil nods solemnly. Logan pauses for a moment before he too, nods "Okay, well let's get some shit together and get there then, the longer we wait the more at risk your son is," Roman's eyebrows raise, but he nods, sliding off the makeshift bench "We leave first thing tomorrow," As Roman slinks off to prep his weapons and tune them up a little, Virgil gives Logan a soft, surprised look, he hadn't expected the other to bite into an emotionally-charged story without material gain for their survival. "I didn't raise him so that other kids can die," Logan replies to the look firmly "He's not my kid, but I did raise him, from the day he was born to now, when you love and care for someone you risk anything for them, I understand that," He sighs "I also understand that he'd throw himself into a fire with that love-struck look he's giving you, so either let him down slowly or deal with it because he's giving me a headache talking about how pretty your eyes are,"

Virgil flushes red lightly and brushes his hair out of his eyes before he folds his arms tightly across his chest, eyes wandering over to the youngest man among them, as he cleans out the barrel of his gun. There's too much kindness in the other, too much naivete, too much of...her; every time Virgil looks at Roman he can see _her_ smile and _her_ kindness and _her_ flirting and laughter. He'd buried a loved one once, he doesn't want to do it again. But you don't find many people like that in this wasteland anymore, so, is this fate's cruel trick?

Or was it their blessing?


	4. No Angel

When the morning came, Logan had packed two bags full of food, water, and weapons. Virgil loaded up his ammo belt and his rifle and Roman had holstered his two .44 pistols with a powerful shot behind them, each back had twenty Stimpaks each, and each of them had two on their person in case of emergencies. “I’ll stay here,” Logan announces to the other two as the red sky burns in the morning heat. “I’ll be alright on my own, peace some junk together, and someone is coming from a nearby settlement to lend a hand for the next couple of days,” Virgil can tell he’s nervous, there’s a jittery look in his eyes as he paces slowly, as though trying to reassure himself.

This must be the first time Roman’s been away from his brother for so long. Virgil can sense the hesitation between the two, they’d always had each other’s back after all and now…now it’s as though they have to quietly accept the dynamic is changing. They’re starting to accept it’s not just the two of them anymore, and that Virgil is slowly but surely becoming a part of their lives; becoming a third member to their dysfunctional family.

“We’ll only be a couple of days Logan, two nights of sleep and we’ll be back,” Roman reassures his elder brother quietly, squeezing his arm a slight comfort that he’s still there, even when he’s not. Logan sighs a heavy sigh that rattles his own bones before he brings Roman into a firm hug, patting his back.

“If I were you I’d enjoy the peace and quiet,” Virgil offers lightly as the brothers untangle from each other, Logan cracks a smile at the light drawl, shaking Virgil’s hand as a form of good luck.

“I will,” Roman rolls his eyes and disappears to roll his jacket up, tying it to the top of his bag with a hum. Logan’s focus directs itself to Virgil “Look after him, he’s brave, but also stupid sometimes, you may have noticed that Roman has a habit of getting himself into unfortunate situations because of his naiveties,” Situations such as Virgil. “Just bring him back in one piece,” Virgil nods and gives a small two-finger salute as he smiles at the other brother, as he turns to go, Logan calls after him again “Oh, and Virgil?” Virgil turns and raises his eyebrows by way of saying ‘yes?’ “Come back in one piece too, I do enjoy your company,”

The sharpshooter grins and nods, as Roman turns up by his side and the two give Logan one final wave before venturing off into the dry, unforgiving wasteland. Though they’ll never know and never see it, Logan’s bottom lip wobbles as he screws his eyes shut and bites his lip, stifling tears of worry and of pride for his younger brother and his new companion.

\--

“You can’t just eat it raw, Roman,” Virgil sighs “It’s best to eat now before the sunset, that way the light won’t attract attention,” He lights the already used fire, skewering pieces of mole rat onto it; Roman wrinkles his nose a little as the elder roasts the pieces over the fire. “Are you okay?” Roman looks away from the dancing light and towards his companion with a small ‘hm?’

The two had been traveling through the mud and desert and roasted wildlife for the better half of a day, the sunset will be due in roughly an hour and they’d found themselves an abandoned shack that had contained a couple of ghouls. Quick bullets made it theirs in less than a few moments. “I’m fine,” He finally replies, his eyes a little tired and something missing from him; there’s a quiet sound on his lips that doesn’t sound like Roman’s voice, soft and scared. Virgil realizes with a start that the piece he’s missing is Logan. Virgil had a brother, somewhere, but the two had never gotten along; unlike Roman and Logan who had been each other’s best friend (and occasionally, worst enemy) for the entirety of Roman’s life, but somewhere Virgil can relate.

He misses his son, and in that regard, perhaps the two weren’t so different after all. There is always someone to miss and in this wasteland, it is hard to grow attached to people you know are so easy to lose. “It’s okay, to miss him, I mean, I won’t mock you for it…I do understand,” Roman knows he understands, but some part of him just doesn’t want to admit just how much of a scared child he is without his older brother guiding him, this is the first time he’d been alone without him in so long.

Logan had always been his rock. Their parents had died not long after Roman’s birth; his mother, during childbirth, and his father to the alcohol he used to cope with that. Logan at the age of 6 years old had carried a starving baby across the wasteland to buy him Brahmin milk with a rifle strapped to his back. An old farmer had taken them both in and taught Logan how to cook and clean and build. After the farmer had died, as everybody does eventually, Logan had kept the farm running alone with a child around his ankles. His brother had taught him everything about the world, the stories and the survivals, about the day the world stopped and so many people had perished, he taught him about Vault-Tec and their human experiments, about the mutants and the ghouls.

Logan made him the man he was. Now, he supposes it’s time for him to be that man.

Virgil squeezes his hand delicately; his eyes wide and sympathetic as he opens his mouth to speak, but he never gets the chance too as a gunshot sounds an alarm. In seconds, Virgil is fidgeting with his pip boy and lining up his sniper as it searches for life forms in the vicinity. Another shot rang out, clanging against the metal work of the shack behind them. “Roman, inside now, I’ve got this,” _He has a promise to keep_. Plus Roman works at close range and hand to hand combat, Virgil’s job is long distance shots. He gets a clear scope of the enemy, there’s only one and he looks to be a lone raider, judging by the terrible shot he’s probably hopped up on Jet.

That or he’s just a shitty shot.

Virgil takes a deep breath to stabilize himself, one eye closing as he takes aim. Another shot, he hears Roman shout a little, cursing to himself. Virgil pulls the trigger, the bullet lands and the raider falls down to the ground. “Roman?” He lowers the gun as he turns to the other, who is scrambling for a Stimpak. “Shit Ro, why didn’t you go back inside?”

“I-In…fuck…in case he shot you,” Virgil lets out a short laugh of disbelief at this idiot, this strangely affectionate and stupidly caring idiot. He helps the younger inside, sitting him down “Thanks,” He mutters quietly.

“Deep breaths, the bullet is still lodged in your arm, I’m going to remove it and then I’m going to put the Stimpak in, okay?” Roman nods as his eye fall closed, Virgil cusses as the blood stains through the other man’s shirt. “Keep your eyes open, I need you to stay with me Roman, okay, look at me,” Roman’s heavy eyelids open as he meets Virgil’s worried eyes and offers a slightly delirious smile, sin pale and clammy. Virgil takes a deep breath and presses his finger inside the wound, Roman shouts out, a stream of curses falling over his lips. “It’s okay, I’ve found it, I’m just going to pull it out,”

“Please stop telling me and just do it, I really don’t want to think about this,” He’s such a big softy for a man raised here, in the middle of the remnants of hungry and bloodthirsty humankind. Virgil yanks the bullet out slowly, twisting it out until it clatters to the floor. The blood starts to pour as the elder grabs the Stimpak, expertly inserting it into the other and pushing its contents into Roman’s body. Immediately, the wounds start to heal, skin and nerves knitting itself back together at a rate that people of the past he’s sure would find remarkable. Roman slumps back against the chair, his eyes closing and chest heaving as Virgil brings his hands to his face, trying to keep his head up.

“Roman, can you look at me, please? I need to know you’re okay,” And Roman does, at the commanding yet pleading tone, he lifts his head lazily and his wide brown eyes flutter open, his skin still clammy and damp as dirt and blood and sweat stain it, hair clinging to his forehead.

And for a moment, for a wonderful, content moment…Virgil could not have thought he looked more beautiful.

“Thank you,” Roman muttered “I forget how much of a pussy I am when it comes to pain sometimes,” He sits up and leans his forehead on Virgil’s arm, he can feel the other’s pulse and see the worry in his eyes. He tilts his head, looking up at Virgil through eyes that are still just forgetting how to cry, the pain now an echo in the back of his mind but one he can still feel in his heart. His blood-soaked hand comes to brush over Virgil’s pale cheek “My guardian angel, huh?” Virgil laughs shortly, but it dies on his lips at the look of sheer adoration that decorates Roman’s face.

“You’re delirious,” He finally says, voice hoarse and dry and he coughs slightly “I’m no angel,”

“Angel with a sniper rifle,” Roman counters, that flirtatious lilt and wide smile returning with the color to his cheeks  “That sounds canonically like an Angel to me, fearless warriors who protect humankind and defend against evil,”

“I don’t do either of those things,”

“No, you just protect me, and your son,” Roman smiles gently “Lord knows Logan doesn’t need protecting,” The two laugh quietly, Virgil hadn’t noticed that Roman was getting closer to him until he opens his eyes from his laugh and finds Roman’s lips pressed gently to his own. A soft, chaste kiss that tastes like blood and tears and dry lips and everything that people’s made up fairy tales could not equate too. Virgil hadn’t wanted the confirmation that Roman loved him until he felt it in that two-second kiss. “Sorry,” Roman mutters quietly as he leans back, but Virgil only shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay,” And he pulls his back into another gentle kiss, his hands wrapping so tightly in his shirt that his knuckles were turning white. But finally, Virgil can feel again, and he sets his fears aside for these few minutes of temporary bliss.


	5. If memories were seas I'd be drowning in my agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has to struggle to keep his memories from affecting him, whilst Roman desperately tries to get him to open up.

The Minutemen. The Commonwealth's personal free-for-hire defense system, a military of sorts. as Virgil stares absently down at the hundreds of them he'd just massacred he feels an empty sort of hole in his chest; is the money worth it? Is it worth this? If he left he might end up with a target on his back, and now he's in the shit he might as well as shovel it. "Sharpshooter!" Virgil turns to face the gunner leader, whose eyes look to be glinting with bloodlust, two pistols strapped to his thighs and a hefty looking semi-automatic hanging by his side. An army to fight an army. The Gunners were unlike any Raiders he'd ever met, with such a rigid military structure it's almost like an anti-army, the sort of army you send in to cause slaughter and not much else.

"Yeah, boss?" He's handed a combat rifle, he's not an up-close and personal type of fighter but orders are orders.

"Have a look around, if you see any more, pick 'em off, any strong-looking ones we could use though, so put a gun to his head and bring 'em back," Well that was brutishly misogynistic, but Virgil nods, takes the gun and begins to pick through the ruins of what was a town called Quincy. A town full of traders until the Gunner had arrived until _Virgil_ had arrived. He's a little bloodthirsty on a good day but this...this was utter devastation, bodies piling in the street, ready to be burned. Dead pack Brahmin that had been used to carry trader's thing now lay dead for the Gunners to strip of their meat and cook on a bonfire. 

He picks through the ruins of an old police station when he hears a whimper. A sigh ghosts his lips as he cocks the rifle, bringing it up to eye level as he begins to pick through the rubble for a sign of life. He absently thinks there's a reason he prefers to be a sniper, it rests so much more comfortable as a gun in his hands than this clunky piece of hard work. "Anyone there?" He calls, making his way up the stairs, a choked and high-pitched sob is heard and Virgil can't quite help the way his hands shake, that...that sounds like a _child_. 

And it is. A young boy huddled in the corner with the palms of his hands pressed firmly over his mouth, grime and dirt and dust clinging with his tears to his cheeks as he looks up at Virgil with terrified eyes. "Fuck," Virgil hesitates, hands still poised to shoot before he shakes his head and lowers his weapon. "Come on, move, quickly," He helps the boy up and out the door. The other Gunners would be busy trying to pile bodies into a bonfire to see as Virgil leads the boy out of the edge of the town. He takes a 10mm out of his pocket and presses it into the boy's hands. "If you see something, point and shoot, aim for it's head, don't point it near yourself," He has the map of this area memorized. "Follow the coast around, it will take you to the Atom Cats Garage, they'll look after you okay? Stay away from the water's edge, there will be monsters there," The boy hesitates, holding the gun in both hands. "Go!" He hisses, and the little boy takes off. 

\--

Virgil jolts awake with a start, his breathing labored as the memory starts to seep away. He finds not a body presses against him but soothing breathing, Roman's head resting against his arm with his wild hair untamed from sleep. He smiles a little, that life is over now and there's no use trying to consider it for much longer. He never went back to the Atom Cats Garage, and there's no way too it without getting past Quincy anyway even though he wishes he knew whether the little boy made it.  Possibly the only survivor of the Quincy Massacre. Knowing that if anyone is still keeping the history books that he is on the wrong side of it is terrifying, he saw all the body that piled that day; hundreds of innocent lives, children included died because of him, because he was too much of a coward to say no. He's never been particularly good at killing even if he's got a sharp shot. Animals, yeah, people? Not so hot on the idea. 

Roman stirs beside him as the sunrise begins to bleed against the sky, Virgil sees his eyebrows furrow and lips pout just a little as his heavy eyelids blink awake. "Morning," His deep voice roughed from sleep as he cracks his back and moves, but then his eyes meet Virgil's and worry becomes written into his features "What's wrong?" The other man opens his mouth to say 'nothing', until he realizes he's crying, bringing a hand to his cheeks to wipe the tears away. "Talk to me Virge," And what a sweet way he talks, so delicately, like he doesn't know the monster that this man is, like he's never cared to ask, but Virgil didn't get his reputation for nothing and maybe Logan was right to be apprehensive. 

"Memories," He finally speaks, throat closing and begging him not too "A child...in Quincy," Roman's jaw tenses a little. People try not to think about the Quincy massacre like it was somehow years and years ago or a relic lost in time, for Virgil it felt like yesterday he was stood atop the ruins of buildings and bodies with dirt clinging to his lungs. "The Gunner Corporal ordered us to execute anyone on sight, but I found a child and I couldn't...I sent him along the coast to the Atom Cats Garage, I knew they were decent people and they wouldn't turn away a child even if they are weirdos," Roman nods "But I never found out if he got there,"

"Then when we're done up in Med-Tek, we'll go to the Atom Cats," Virgil shakes his head "If we stay down by the shore we can easily sneak past Quincy without the Gunners noticing us, on the way back I need to stop off in Diamond City for some weapons repairs anyway,"

"Why are you...?"

"Insufferable? Unable to let something go? Unwilling to see you upset?" Virgil's head knows as a weak smile crosses his lips "I think you know the answer to that already," Even though he doesn't want to say it or even think about it, he does, he really does.


	6. I'll argue with a gun, but never a smile

Ghouls scramble through the dirt with their usual demeanor, snarling, hissing, blood and grime clinging too their leathery skin like the atmosphere had only made them stronger as it tried to eat them from the inside out. "Two on your left!" Virgil shouts as two bullets go through the one to his right, headshot; he's not good with close-quarters combat but he'll be damned if he's anything but a good marksman. He can hear Roman cussing as one lets out a particularly loud wail, sharp nails aiming for his face, this is silence with the ringing shot of his assault rifle. "Good job for a pretty boy," Virgil pants out as Roman puts down the last of the two. They stare up at the building "That place is gonna be fucking crawling, how many Stimpaks have you got?"

"Six on standby," Virgil nods "Radaway?" Another nod as they both grab a couple of Rad-X pills to stifle the radiation that these buildings are always full of "Make you wonder doesn't it? If this was medicine back then...the fuck were they thinking? Did they not know what radiation does or something that they were putting it in drinks and food and medication?" The sniper shrugs a little, he hadn't thought much of the old days before the Earth became a chicken fried roast hanging in space.

"If I think about it too much I might start to care," He settles on as they walk through the doors "So I ain't going to think about it," They heave the rusted front doors open, guns cradled between their hands and poised, ready for combat. Fighting is a little like dancing; it requires intense focus, being light on your toes, only the difference is between a bad fall and death. The first hint of movement has a bullet flying, and that brings all the rats out of the woodwork as the two men start their execution of things beyond their mortal understanding. Fear is a powerful steroid by itself, it gets the blood flowing as you forget about the aches and pains of your body and focus only on survival; a primal instinct that got the world in the mess that it is currently already in. 

Six floors later, Virgil is as far into the building as he's ever got, but the Geiger counter on his wrist is clicking like crazy as the radiation levels pool through. He has the layout of the building and he knows what he's here for, but he also knows why the Ghouls are here. They're attracted to radiation like it's their lunchtime meal that they've been starved of, for the rest of the world that's _fucking crazy_ , the Human race is suffocating under green clouds, but these things are like a personal magnet. Where there's radiation, there are ghouls. And if they don't have enough Rad-X and Radaway then they're looking into a mirror of what they'll become (if they're lucky). "Wonder how the rest of the world is doing?" Roman asks suddenly, still staring down the barrel of his own gun as they step lightly through the maze of corridors. "You know, Europe and shit," Virgil snorts quietly, trust Roman to make light conversation on a battlefield. 

"Roasted I think, blew themselves up before the rest of us," He pauses a moment "Probably in the same state as us, except there's more of Europe packed tightly together, so if the countries are all fighting each other with Nukes...that's more radiation," A low growl is heard, Virgil doesn't even let it get to its feet before he's putting four bullets straight through its skull. The head explodes like a hornet's nest, a very gross-looking hornet's nest that contains gore and blood. Roman scrunches up his nose in distaste. "Least we know it's dead," The noise that leaves his partner's mouth might've been the most noncommittal noise Virgil ever heard. "But yeah, I don't know who was on whose side but all those countries packed in one space dropping bombs on each other hardly sounds like a party,"

"Still, wish you could just hop on a boat, see how...I don't know...France is doing,"

"You'd hit England first, and I really don't want to see what's left of them, from the History books they kinda sound like assholes,"

"You read?"

"Libraries have computer terminals," Roman smirks and shoots Virgil a look "They read aloud, don't...bully me I can't read properly," The other man makes a small humming noise "Shit there's like six of them in there," They peer in through the glass windows to see what's left of the zombified Humans as they stand and stare aimlessly at the floor "And that place is practically fucking leaking rads," He sighs "I'll have to get into that terminal and then it's all guns blazing, got it?" Roman nods and braces in front of the door, as Virgil starts tapping away at the computer, his fingers moving with determination as he stares at the strings of numbers and letters. After a few moments, the terminal beeps and the door locks disengage. "How are they even managing in there?" Virgil offers absently before bullets start ringing against bodies and the floor. 

When the bodies have finished hitting the floor, Roman finally answers "Well they're basically corpses, right? As long as their heart keeps pumping that radiation through their system it's like...suspended death, they're sitting in the waiting room waiting for their mind to finish rotting," He prods one of them suspiciously, it doesn't move. "Is this the right room?"  
  


"If that ever happens to me you better put a fucking bullet in me, Sanders," Roman looks a little surprised, is Virgil planning on keeping him around long enough for that? He doesn't ask the question because he doesn't know which answer he wants, or which answer Virgil will give. "This is the right room," The dark-haired man begins to rifle through the drawers, opening up boxes and grabbing some lightweight metals he can meltdown for parts later, as well as some caps and pre-war money. He gets to the last drawer, looking through all sorts of glass bottles that were once held in pristine condition until..."I've got it!" He whispers "Roman I've got it!" Roman's face breaks out into a grin as he holds it up, a glass bottle holding no more than 0.2L of liquid. "It's probably irradiated so he'll have to take Rad-X and Radaway but...he might actually have a chance now!" Virgil squeaks as Roman's arms wrap around him, twirling him around in celebration. Virgil's hand rests on the other's cheek as he stares in his eyes "Thank you so much, I couldn't have done this without you and I..." Roman silences his rambles with a warm kiss, feeling the other man melt against him. 

"No problem at all, darling," Virgil feels his cheeks flush, and he looks down at the glass in his hands, taking a deep breath. He really can't argue with that smile at all.

 


End file.
